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Autumn Comes in the Morning

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As I rush out the door, I catch my breathe, realizing something is different. The sun heats the hand that shields my eyes, but a chill wraps around my sandals and tickles between my toes. Hmm, same trees, same Bermuda grass, same neighbor’s car parked in front of my house rather than it’s own driveway. Hmmm…

Ah, yes! My senses remember: autumn! Yay, it’s autumn again!

Adding to the list scratched into my mind’s eye, I whisk away to my favorite grocery store with what proves to be–once again–too few reusable bags.

Inside the store, autumn is obvious. Pumpkins parade into each passing cart, but I stare those squash down like I’m choosing a soulmate. I weigh several by hand and by eye, then scoop one of each variety into the cart for good measure.

With cucurbits stowed, I find the shelves have been dusted by the Pumpkin Spice Fairy since my last visit–Tuesday–and I salivate. How did I survive on crackers these past ten months without sugar and spice filling every crunch? Or settle for regular schmear when I could spread pumpkin cream cheese on a pumpkin bagel?

Pumpkin Spice Nog? There’s such a thing?!

Ready for hearth and hygge, I pull away from the check stand and heave my load across the parking lot. The car greets me with a sauna’s kiss and then, ho ho, I remember.

In my neck of the scrubland, autumn comes in the morning, but summer reigns at noon.